


it's bloody and raw (but i swear it is sweet)

by CommanderMollyOBrien



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: "The Fair" means he's beautiful NOT that he's white, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Celegorm does NOT belong in a disney movie, Dior Is A Disney Princess, Gen, He is also an eldritch horror, M/M, but he is a disney princess nonetheless, celegorm is going to be hit over the head with feelings, from what i've heard of game of thrones celegorm belongs there, i'd have two quarters, if i had a quarter for every time the house of feanor acquired new family member(s) via kidnapping, melian and maedhros have the only two braincells in this story, on occasion dior can borrow melian's braincell, which isn't a lot of quarters but it's weird that it happened twice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29208615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderMollyOBrien/pseuds/CommanderMollyOBrien
Summary: In which Dior Eluchíl wanders outside of the Girdle of Melian, and everything changes.Title from Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier.
Relationships: Celegorm | Turcafinwë/Dior Eluchíl
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In the Company of Wolves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793828) by [ancient_moonshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancient_moonshine/pseuds/ancient_moonshine). 



Dior could feel the Girdle in front of him, pushing back against him, telling him, _Stay, Stay, Stay._

But the forest beyond it was wide and beautiful and _his_ to explore.

Running through his grandmother's magic felt like running through water.

He raced ahead, his feet barely touching the ground and his too-bright eyes glowing as he laughed. 

Dior began to Sing, something ancient and hopeful he had learned from his mother that made flowers bloom among the fallen autumn leaves. 

He heard the dart land in his side before he saw it.

He looked down and reached for the dart, and then the world went white. 


	2. Chapter 2

When Dior woke up, the first thing he noticed was the feeling of cold metal around his wrists. That, and a pounding headache. 

He immediately tried to change his form, to pull that spark of ever-changing light inside of him into his whole _hröa_ , and found that he couldn't. The light that had always been there had gone out, like a candle flame snuffed out under a cover. 

"I wouldn't, Eluchíl," a low, husky voice told him in accented Sindarin, "Those shackles are designed to hold Maiar." 

Dior turned. 

An elf with the sun-bright eyes of a Noldo sat by a makeshift campsite, polishing a dagger. Scars from fire and blades cut across his brown skin. He was, Dior admitted, outrageously beautiful. 

_Oh, no._

"Celegorm Feanorion," Dior realized, "They didn't tell me you were _this_ crazy."

He laughed harshly, "Don't worry, Eluchíl. I won't kill you. I just need your grandfather to return what belongs to us."

"My parents will find you, Feanorion," Dior hissed, unable to change form but still capable of baring his fangs, "And then we'll see if you burn like your father did."

Celegorm sheathed his knife, "Perhaps they will. But in the meantime, we have a long way to go. And if you try to escape, if you try to Sing me unconscious, if you try to get out of those chains, you'll have a long time to regret it."

Dior shut his eyes, struggling not to weep. 

_My family will find me,_ he told himself, _Mother battled Gorthaur the Cruel and won. And she and Father both faced Morgoth and lived. They'll save me._


	3. Chapter 3

"Come on, Eluchíl," Celegorm began packing up the campsite, "We need to keep going."

"Why are you doing this?" Dior demanded, against all his Mannish self-preservation instincts, "Why does _everyone_ care so much about this Valar-damned rock?" 

" _I_ don't give a damn about anything about it, except that my father loved it," Celegorm responded bitterly, not looking at him as he worked, "But we swore an oath, and it's this or the Everlasting Darkness." 

"I never understood why you actually did that," If Dior concentrated, he thought he could actually hear an ancestor or two despairing over his lack of sense, "It was stupid, even for you." 

Celegorm laughed harshly, "I wonder how well _you_ would think through your choices, if the Sun and Moon had been destroyed and you had just seen your grandfather's murdered corpse."

And for a moment, Dior was not seeing his captor but the future he had seen in his nightmares for years, his parents gone and his grandfather bleeding out and Doriath _burning, burning, burning_. 

_Don't think about that,_ he reminded himself, _They were just nightmares. Everyone said they were just nightmares. They have to be just nightmares._

"So you admit it was a bad idea," Dior continued dryly, determined not to think about his dreams, "I didn't know you knew consequences existed." 

Celegorm turned. For a moment, Dior froze, thinking he was going to be hit, and then stared as Celegorm laughed. 

"You're worse than your mother," His captor sounded almost affectionate, "You do sound like her. Prettier than a songbird and fiercer than a hawk."

Celegorm reached out to touch a lock of Dior's feather-soft, midnight hair, "And you're as fair as her. Perhaps fairer."

Dior blinked at him, "So I've been told." 

Celegorm turned away, suddenly looking very distant, "I expect you have _._ Help me pack this up, we need to start riding soon." 

Dior shrugged at whatever _that_ had been about and got up. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are Loved.


End file.
